I hate Pavel.

Okay, I don't hate him. In fact, I love him. More than anything or anyone I have ever loved in my entire life.

And he's breaking my heart.

Reaching over, I grabbed the lamp off the nightstand and threw it across the room at him. He quickly ducked out of the way and it went crashing into his DVD player, knocking it to the floor; sending sparks flying.

"Damnit Henrik!" He yelled, "Calm down!"

"How can you tell me that?!" I screamed. "How can you do this to me? How could you!" I snatched the alarm clock up and threw it into the wall next to me.

"Henrik," He began calmly, "They didn't make me a worthy offer."

I spun around to face him, "'A worthy offer'? Who the fuck do you think you are? Gretzky?!"

He sighed, "Pheonix made me a good offer, and they made you one too. You should at least consider it."

If I was Medusa, he would be a statue. "I don't want to consider it, Pavel! I like Detroit! I don't want to leave!"

"We won't be alone. Boyd is there."

"Fuck Boyd! That Canadian can kiss my Swedish ass!" He recolied slightly. I was rarely this vulgar. But can you blame me? My boyfriend just signed to another team, clear across the country.

When he signed that contract, he willingly signed the death warrent for our relationship.

We were over.

And it was entirely his fault.

Again, I was overcome with anger, but I didn't have anything hard to throw at him.

Instead, I stormed out of the room without another look at him. Rushing down the stairs, my eyes were blurred with tears as I grabbed my coat and turned to get my keys from the kitchen table.

Pavel snatched them before I could.

I glared at him and resisted the urge to punch him, "Give me my fucking keys!" I growled.

He held them in a tight grip, "No. I don't want you driving when you're upset."

I was trying to ignore the continuing buzz of insanity in my head, "Give me my keys, Pavel."

He shook his head and I snapped. Leaping forward, I grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and slammed him against the wall.

His breath left him in a rush and he couldn't mask the sudden fear in his eyes. I was taller than him, not by much, but I still had an advantage as I shook him roughly, "You have no right to tell me when I can drive and when I can't!" I screamed, "Give me my fucking keys!"

"Henrik," He whispered as my fingers tightened so hard, I was waiting for them to break. "Please listen to me." He reached his hand up and brush his shaking fingers against my cheek.

My lip began to quiver and I started to shake with surpressed emotion. Oh God, he's leaving me. He's really leaving me.

And before I knew it, I was crying. I let go of him, my coat slipped from my fingers and I fell to the floor by the couch. I dropped my face into my hands and sobbed.

How could he? How could he do this to me? To us?

A few moments later, I could feel him in front of me; mirroring my position on the floor.

I didn't care what he had to say though. I wanted him away. I wanted him to die.

Hesitant hands touched my shoulders and I shoved them off, falling backwards. I leaned against the couch and brought my knees to my chest, crying into them.

"Henrik..." He said quietly, "Henrik, please listen to me."

"Leave me alone." I moaned, still fighting with my tears. I didn't want to talk to him about this. Not now, not ever. I didn't want this to be real, and I certainly didn't want this to happen.

But what was that my mom told me, just because you pretend something isn't real, doesn't make it not real.

This was going to happen, whether I wanted it to or not.

After a few silent minutes, I finally stopped crying. Wiping my eyes on my shirt sleve, I sniffed a few times before running my fingers through my disheveled hair.

Taking my time, I swallowed and eventually forced myself to look at him.

I studdied him. Really looking at him for the first time since he told me he was leaving. He looked like shit. But even though I knew this was a hard decision for him to make, I couldn't bring myself to feel bad for him.

He had voluntarily done this to us, to me and to himself. He deserved every damn bit of the pain and suffering he was going through right now.

In fact, he deserved a lot more of it.

Where was a slap shot to the face when you needed it?

I forced down the urge to beat the shit out of him, "What?"

He tried to touch me, but I leaned out of the way. His fingers curled in and he slowly pulled his hand back, "Henrik, you can't think this is easy for me."

"Don't even try to come off as the victim." I pointed an accusing finger at him, "This is entirely your fault."

"I know." He whispered, looking down at his hands, "I know, and I'm sorry."

I bit my lip, trying my damnedest not to cry, "Why'd you do it, Pavel? Why the fuck did you do this?" I asked, half hysterical.

He sat down fully and sighed. He took his sweet time preparing himself for the talk we were about to have. I would later wish to hell he had prepared me for it.

Heaving a great sigh, he looked at me square in the eye. I felt it then. I knew what he was about to say. I could read it in his eyes.

"Henrik, you have to believe that I love you." He started.

I could have slapped him, "I don't."

A quick look of hurt flashed across his face. But I didn't care if he was hurt. This was his fucking fault and after what I just saw in his eyes, I didn't give a shit about his feelings. But still, I held out hope that I was wrong about what I thought he was going to say.

"Well I do love you. And I always will. But..." He trailed off and I lost all hope. My heartbeat began to faulter and my stomach immediately cramped up with the sinking in my heart. "I don't know how to say this." He said, brushing his shaking fingers through his hair.

"Henrik, I..." He licked his lips nervously, "I'm... I'm not..." He gestured uselessly with his hands, "I'm not... attracted to you anymore."

"What?!" I cried, my eyes filling again. I knew it, but I couldn't believe it. Our physical activity had diminished drastically ever since I went home to Sweden for Christmas vacation and left him here.

"You're inrcredible and attractive, but..." He sighed, "I just... don't feel it anymore."

Tears began running down my cheeks, "What happened?" I asked, "Did I get fat? If it's that, I can fix it, you-"

"No Henrik, you are beautiful." He said, placing his hand on my knee.

I wanted to bite it off.

"Then what is it? If I'm beautiful then why don't you want me anymore?" I was close to full out sobbing. I couldn't even see him through the tears that were clouding my vision.

"It's not just physically." He said, "You've abandoned me emotionally."

My eyes went wide, "I have not! I've been there for you all the time!"

He slowly shook his head, "No you haven't. Ever since your dad died you've been treating me like just a friend."

"No I haven't." I said, turning more to face him, "I love you. I never stopped."

"I know you love me." He said, "But you've put a wedge between us, and I've tried so hard to get around it, but you won't let me. I don't know why you wouldn't let me help you deal with your father's death. But whatever the reason was, it kept pulling you away from me." I opened my mouth to protest, but he continued on, "And you didn't fight to stay with me. And I didn't fight as hard as I could have to stay with you. We've been growing apart for months."

He was right. I felt it too, but I ignored it.

I ignored it, but it was still real.

"Is there someone else?" I whispered.

He shook his head, "I'd never cheat on you."

I believed him.

"Why didn't you tell me about this sooner?"

"I tried Henrik. You wouldn't listen to me. It was like you had shut me out completely." He explained.

I swallowed, this was more my fault than I thought. I had indeed pushed him away from me, but I never expected it to turn out like this. Even when I pushed, I loved him. I never meant for this to happen.

"Can't we try again?" I asked, my voice cracking, "Let me fix it, Pavel." I begged. He had to know how much I loved him. There was no way he couldn't.

He shook his head sadly, and placed his hand on my cheek, "I just don't feel the spark anymore, Henrik."

More tears began pouring from my eyes, "But I love you." I whispered.

"I love you too. But it's just not the same. Something's gone." He said softly. "And I know you feel it too."

Once again, he was right. There was a tiny something that had been diminishing for months between us. But we had both ignored it.

I feel like my heart is breaking. In fact, I know it is.

I swallowed hard around the lump in my throat. "What happens now?"

"I leave for Pheonix in four weeks." He said quietly.

I closed my eyes and fought down the urge to run off sobbing. This wasn't going to go away no matter how much I cried. I had to deal with it here and now.

"What are you going to do?" He asked.

Breathing deep, I slowly ran through my options. "I'm not leaving Detroit. I'm going to sign the conract that my agent and Dave have been working on in a few days."

He had given up on us by signing with the Coyotes, and I was officially throwing in the towel by staying with Detroit. He nodded slowly, his eyes brimming with tears. He bit his lip and the corners of his eyes began to leak.

"Are you going to stay?" He asked, looking hopeful and desperate at the same time. I had sold my house and moved in with him when our relationship had become serious, over a year ago.

I shook my head, "No. I can't."

"Where will you go?" Tears were running freely from his eyes, making me cry even more.

I wiped my cheeks dry, "I don't know." I said quietly, "But I'm leaving tonight."

His eyes went wide, "You can't!" He exclaimed, causing me to jump. He blushed slightly and lowered his voice, "Not tonight. It's late." I was going to tell him to basically go fuck himself, but he jumped in, "Please Henrik. Stay tonight."

I closed my eyes and my shoulders slumped. I didn't have it in me to argue any more. "Fine." I sighed, rubbing my eyes dry with my sleeve and forced myself to my feet. I staggered slightly and Pavel grabbed on to me as he stood, steadying me.

I quickly shoved him away from me, dispite the hurt look on his face, I turned and hurried up the stairs.

Once inside the bedroom the two of us shared, I grabbed my pajama pants and a t-shirt and locked myself in the bathroom.

I probably should have taken a shower but it was past midnight and I was tired as shit. Not to mention the fact that I had a hell of a day ahead of me.

Checking my appearance in the mirror, making sure that my face wasn't red and blotchy, I left the bathroom. Pavel was sitting on the bed, his head down and his hands in his lap. He looked up when I stepped out.

I ignored him and tossed my clothes in the hamper before moving to the bed, grabbing my pillow and heading for the door.

Pavel lept to his feet, "Where are you going?" He asked, a trace of panic in his voice.

I kept my back to him, "I'm sleeping in the guest bedroom."

His hand touched my arm, "Please don't."

I sighed and turned to face him, "Pavel, how can you honestly expect me to sleep with you?"

"Why not?" He asked quietly.

Was he for real? "You don't love me anymore!" I practically yelled.

"That's not true!" He defended, "I do love you, but-"

"But not like you used to. I got it." I said, rolling my eyes.

His shoulders slumped, "Please stay. If you're leaving tomorrow, this is our..."

"Our what?" I hissed.

His eyes were brimming with tears and his lip was starting to quiver. Great. Now I felt like shit.

Wait, wait, wait, wait! He wasn't going to make me feel bad. This was his fault. If he hadn't gone and done this to us, then this wouldn't be our last... whatever he was going to say.

I could feel my facial features harden as I put my hand on my hip, "Our last what?" I asked quietly.

He lifted his hands only to have them fall back to his sides, "Nevermind." He whispered as tears began to fall down his cheeks, he turned away from me.

Taking a deep breath, I tried to quell the anger mixed with anguish I was feeling in the pit of my stomach. "Pavel." I said. He looked back at me, "I'll stay."

His face immediately brightened and he took my hand. I wanted to wrench mine away from his, but I didn't. I let him lead me over to the bed. He took my pillow away from me and laid it back at the head of the bed.

The fingers of his other hand laced with mine and he turned me towards him. Taking my now damp cheeks in his hands, he leaned in slowly. He hesitated a few inches away from me, and I couldn't blame him. But I wanted him to kiss me. I needed it.

I tilted my head forward slightly, giving him the go-ahead.

A small smile met his mouth as he brushed his lips against mine.

I wanted desperately for him to lay me down and make love to me, but I knew that no matter what, that would not happen tonight. Even if he wanted to, I wouldn't let it happen.

I parted my lips when I felt his tongue touch them. This was going to be our last real kiss and I wanted it to be special. And even though I could feel his love for me in the way he held me, I could also feel the absence of the raw desire that his kiss once held.

Tears continued to run from my eyes as I wrapped my arms around him. Tomorrow I would move out and in four weeks he would leave for Pheonix, and we'd be completely over.

I cried harder as I poured all of my feelings for him into our kiss.

Oh God. I love him.

I love him so much.

And I've lost him.

Forever.